


head(s) over heels for you

by suheafoams



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hybrids, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slice of Life, Squirrel!Seoho, established youngdo, fashion designer!youngjo, fwb (implied), moving in together talks, panther!youngjo, puppy!geonhak, sweater stealing, youngdo Romancing seoho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: “Seoho,” Youngjo says sweetly, when Geonhak strategically hip-bumps Seoho away from dishwashing duty so that Youngjo can get down to the Important Business. “C’mere.”Seoho, now pliant and agreeable due to being fed curry chicken and carrots and potatoes, lets Youngjo maneuver him so that they’re cuddling on the couch and doesn’t protest when Youngjo’s tail wraps demurely around his waist. “...What?”(Youngjo wonders whether Seoho has realized yet that he’s long been caught in a trap set by two men intent on having him for keeps and not just for temporary fun.)
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho
Comments: 19
Kudos: 179





	head(s) over heels for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seoho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoho/gifts).



> hello kreeeeeeeeeeeeeees i hope you like this! twas written w love

Seoho is bundled up in one of Youngjo’s newer hoodies when he comes over for dinner. 

Youngjo is pleased to see it, considering Seoho defaults to stealing Geonhak’s hoodies more often and complains that Youngjo’s clothing purchases make Youngjo look more like a high fashion old uncle than the age he really is (twenty five). Truthfully, it’s probably because Seoho likes clothes that are big enough to swallow him up and make him feel safe, which makes Geonhak’s closet a perfect target of a certain squirrel’s ransacking, while Youngjo likes his outfits to actually _fit_ his body. 

Which is why Youngjo chose to size up when he bought this hoodie, a new addition to the winter collection of his friend’s line that hasn’t been released to the public yet, just to see if Seoho would take any interest. 

Seoho has. Taken interest, that is, and Youngjo wonders whether Seoho has realized yet that he’s long been caught in a trap set by two men intent on having him for keeps and not just for temporary fun. 

Youngjo smiles at Seoho, fiddles with the smooth, resin rose earring on his own earlobe as he takes in the slightly squashed fur of Seoho’s fluffy, brown speckled tail underneath the low hemline of the canary-yellow hoodie. Seoho’s tail is more air than any real volume, but it still garners a lot more attention in public than Youngjo’s sleek, black panther tail or Geonhak’s perpetually wagging one. 

“What’s with this atmosphere?” Seoho asks, before Youngjo gently pulls him inside and closes the door behind them. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” 

“You look cute,” Youngjo says, and Seoho’s ears twitch. “Very beautiful.” 

Unconvinced, Seoho squints. He tucks the neatly folded bundle in his arms closer to his chest, and judging by the faded color and material, it’s one of Geonhak’s old university sweatshirts that Seoho has finally taken the courtesy to wash and return after endless complaints from the blonde puppy that his wardrobe is shrinking in size because of Seoho. 

“I haven’t washed my hair in two days,” Seoho says, before asking, “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” Youngjo says, smiling wider. He doesn’t mean for it to be alarming, so he reaches a hand out to caress Seoho’s cheek and earns a perplexed squeak in response. “Wash your hands and come set the table, okay?” 

As soon as Seoho comes out of the bathroom and approaches the dining table, Geonhak is the one to wrap his arms around Seoho’s waist, setting aside his cooking duties to trap Seoho in a back hug while Seoho’s still flicking drops of water off his hands. “Wha—”

“You switched your body wash,” Geonhak says, and Seoho swats at him without any real intent to make Geonhak go away. 

Youngjo just laughs at them as he turns the heat off and looks for kitchen mitts to carry the pot of curry over to the table. Geonhak’s idea of a proper greeting is a casual remark on how someone’s smell compares to the last time he’d smelled them, paired with a puppy lick if he’s feeling affectionate. 

“I just want chicken curry,” Seoho says, his voice tinged with apprehension, and there it is, the scrunching of his entire face as Geonhak predictably and enthusiastically licks a stripe from Seoho’s jaw to his temple. “Let me go.” 

_You’re embarrassing me,_ Seoho’s whole body says, while his fingers curl into the cotton of Geonhak’s t-shirt and say the complete opposite. Geonhak merely punctuates the end of his well meaning lick with a peck on Seoho’s forehead, undeterred by Seoho’s curtness. 

“Nice to see you, too,” Geonhak says. “I sacrificed Youngjo’s delicate taste buds just for you.” 

“A little extra spice won’t hurt,” Seoho says, before he looks at Youngjo and chuckles. To match the mischievous curve of his mouth, his eyes curl characteristically into those pretty little crescents that Youngjo had fallen fast and hard for the moment Seoho had smiled at him on the very first day they’d met. “Right, Youngjo?” 

“Right,” Youngjo agrees, even though he knows perfectly well that he’ll be sticking his tongue out for the majority of dinner to try and escape from the jalapeno heat of Geonhak’s Seoho-catered seasoning. 

It’s obvious that Seoho is somewhat puzzled when his gaze lands on the table and he notices that Youngjo has brought out the _nice_ plates and bowls, which surround a large, extravagant bouquet of flowers in the center of the set up, mixed in with various types of nuts Seoho is notably partial to. 

“What’s the occasion?” Seoho asks, suspicion growing in his voice as he settles in his usual seat by the window. “Youngjo’s birthday was the most recent. That bouquet should have catnip in it if we’re celebrating anything.” 

“No occasion,” Youngjo says, and Seoho shrinks into the warmth of his (Youngjo’s) hoodie as Youngjo drapes himself over Seoho’s shoulders. “Just thought you deserved something nice after a long work week.” 

Today had been a tag team effort between Youngjo and Geonhak, starting off with Youngjo pestering Geonhak earlier in the week to set aside some time to cook dinner for a surprise date instead of working out as usual. Geonhak had said no, initially, like he did with everything else, but he’d finished listening to Youngjo’s reasoning for wanting to spoil Seoho and then promptly started organizing a grocery shopping list so that Youngjo could pick up the necessary ingredients sometime before the weekend. 

As for the bouquet, Youngjo had taken charge of arranging it after asking Keonhee for advice and tips, and he’d concentrated so hard while making it that his tongue had stuck out and made Geonhak laugh upon Geonhak checking in on Youngjo’s progress while the curry was simmering. 

“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Geonhak had asked, referring to the exorbitant nature of the flowers, and Youngjo had shaken his head adamantly. 

“Nothing is too much if it’s for _love,_ ” Youngjo had replied, earning an exasperated laugh from Geonhak’s end. 

Dinner with Geonhak and Seoho, as any other pastime where both of them are present, is comfortable. Youngjo keeps a glass of milk close throughout the entirety of dinner, chuckling softly through painful but tasty spice while Seoho nitpicks at Geonhak’s eating habits, teases Geonhak that he’s better off eating dog treats if he’s going to be so messy with his rice and sauce divisions and Geonhak threatens to never make dinner for Seoho again. 

When it’s just Geonhak and Youngjo, things are more peaceful. Less turbulent. It makes sense considering the roots of their relationship. Youngjo’d taken Geonhak into his arms and given him hope when Geonhak had been sad, had been hurt by people who dismissed his kindness and took advantage of it for their own ulterior motives. Similarly to Seoho, Geonhak bristles at Youngjo’s cheesy displays of affection even if he quietly accepts Youngjo’s advances, _but_ he’ll handwrite Youngjo these long letters, sometimes, thanking Youngjo for extending a hand when he’d felt unbearably alone and offering unconditional love when Geonhak had least expected it. 

Seoho’s arrival in both of their lives, through a chance encounter at a coffee shop that doubled as a bar in the evenings, had brought noise and chaos that Youngjo hadn’t known he’d needed until he’d gotten it. All customers were subject to Seoho’s playful magic tricks and flirtatious smiles if he was the one making their drinks, but Youngjo had taken into careful consideration the way Seoho blushed when Youngjo had complimented his fur, the way Seoho would watch Geonhak in the moments he wasn’t actively trying to annoy the man to death. 

It’d been clear, too, that despite Geonhak’s initial protests, he’d liked Seoho as much as Youngjo had, had liked the way Seoho’s eyes would shine with a particular brilliance when the two of them were play-fighting. The only difference between Geonhak and Youngjo was that Youngjo made zero effort to be subtle and Geonhak sort of stumbled his way through appealing to Seoho the same way he did to everyone else, shy and flustered and clumsy, just with a little extra protective staring involved when it came to Seoho. 

Apparently that combination had worked in their favor because it hadn’t taken very much persuasion for Seoho to come home with them after one of his longer, tiring shifts, giving in to Youngjo’s promises to spoil him rotten and later, in the privacy of Youngjo’s fancy loft apartment, melting into Geonhak’s quiet manhandling as Geonhak pulled Seoho into his lap to kiss him silly. 

Seoho’d stayed the morning after for breakfast, messy brown curls making an appearance after a shower and looking so cute in one of Youngjo’s floral sleepshirts as he’d asked Geonhak if he could help with anything in the kitchen that Youngjo had known, right then and there, he’d wanted to keep Seoho around for good. 

“Seoho,” Youngjo says sweetly, when Geonhak strategically hip-bumps Seoho away from dishwashing duty so that Youngjo can get down to the Important Business. “C’mere.” 

Seoho, now pliant and agreeable due to being fed curry chicken and carrots and potatoes, lets Youngjo maneuver him so that they’re cuddling on the couch and doesn’t protest when Youngjo’s tail wraps demurely around his waist. “...What?” 

“I know you didn’t want to, the last time I asked but…” Youngjo says, and Seoho’s eyes narrow knowingly. It’s attractive, how his eyes go sharp when he’s intently listening to what someone’s saying to him, how the movement of his thoughts flickers ever so slightly through his facial features even if he’s not openly expressive about his emotions. Youngjo could write endless Shakespearean sonnets about the timeless beauty of every single expression Seoho’s eyes make, but that’s for another day’s work. The big picture question right now is… “Won’t you move in with Geonhak and me? Your lease is ending soon, right?” 

“I...” Seoho looks away, but leans into the softness of Youngjo’s palm against his jaw. He pauses for a bit, the air of his soft exhale tickling the edges of Youngjo’s hand. Hesitation lingers in the skittish movement of his gaze, and Youngjo is determined to remove it. “I like having my own place. I’m—” 

“That’s not what Geonhak told me,” Youngjo says. “He said you were mumbling against him about how you wished you could be with us more. How you come home to an empty, cold apartment sometimes and how you hate that your neighbors are partying at 3 AM and how shitty the coin laundry machines are. How rent is way too expensive for a building with so many problems in it.” 

“I was sleep talking,” Seoho says. Between the three of them, he’s the best liar, but that doesn’t mean he’s a _good_ one. He’s stubborn when it comes to accepting nice things if he thinks he doesn’t deserve them, but Youngjo thinks Seoho deserves the entire universe, so it should be a no-brainer for Seoho to accept something much smaller: move in to a nicer place with two steady boyfriends ever ready to dote on him. “...I told Geonhak not to tell you strange things.” 

“Maybe you could have stopped him from saying strange things if you lived with us,” Youngjo suggests, tilting his head in amusement as his ears perk up mildly, and Seoho bristles at the implication that he’s stuck in a Mobius strip where any choice he makes will ultimately lead him back to Youngjo and Geonhak, a singular destination that offers no escape. 

(It’s true that there is no escape for Seoho considering Youngjo often gets what he wants, even if Youngjo is harmless. Youngjo never resorts to extended claws or manipulation, after all, since his power lies not in making people agree to his whims by force but out of the sheer unconditional affection he holds for them.) 

“That’s not—” Seoho lets out a huff. “Don’t say that with your innocent _I have no idea what’s going on_ face. You’re doing this on purpose.”

Youngjo smiles. “Doing what?” 

Seoho pulls lightly on one of Youngjo’s whiskers, hard enough to make Youngjo’s half lidded eyes go wide at the display of Seoho’s mean streak. “I told you before, I don’t like being tied down.” 

“You sure don’t act like it,” Youngjo says innocently, and Seoho frowns at him. The fur on Seoho’s tail has gotten a bit frizzy from its owner’s distress, so Youngjo licks his thumb and smooths down the most belligerent tufts with some of his saliva. “I have a whole drawer of your clothes, and your designated cup and toothbrush in the bathroom, and your favorite walnut ice cream bars in the freezer. Your phone wallpaper has Geonhak and me in it—”

“Which you set yourself—” 

“Which you never changed,” Youngjo points out, sliding a hand up Seoho’s thigh affectionately and laughing quietly when Seoho stops him before Youngjo’s hand goes too high up, but holds it in place instead of brushing off Youngjo’s touch entirely. “Can I at least have an honest reason why you don’t want to?” 

“Well.” Seoho’s giggle is nervous, apprehensive, and his voice goes flat in the way it does every time he’s gathering the courage to open up for real and not deflect like usual. “I have weird work shifts, and I’m still trying to figure things out, as you know, so sometimes I look at you, at Geonhak, all of this… and I don’t _fit_...not yet—” 

“You don’t fit?” Youngjo asks, gently, although he has an inkling as to what Seoho is referring to. Geonhak is the quintessential boy next door, Youngjo is a designer and model who was born into wealth and manufactured for success just as much as he’d worked for it, and Seoho is still figuring himself out in between hectic part time jobs and demanding classes, unsure and skeptical of what he can offer the world. 

When Seoho doesn’t say anything, Youngjo continues with, “You have to stop thinking like that, you know. That you’re not good or not perfect enough, that you have to wait for some ideal moment or some achievement milestone before you’re allowed to be by someone’s side.” 

By now, Geonhak has heard enough to decide to forego the rest of the dishes, turning off the faucet and discarding his apron on the back of his dining chair as he makes a beeline for where Youngjo and Seoho are sitting on the couch. Carefully, he settles on the opposite side of Youngjo so that Seoho is sandwiched in between them and enveloped completely in warmth. 

“It’s lonely only seeing you once or twice a week,” Geonhak says, lowering his face to rest it in the crook of Seoho’s neck. Maybe he bites the soft skin there, too, but Youngjo’s not sure because he can’t see from this angle, can only feel Seoho flinch slightly before Geonhak runs his hands up and down Seoho’s arms reassuringly. “Wanna wake up to you in the mornings and know that Youngjo doesn’t have to send you home after breakfast. Wanna kiss you and not have to memorize it for later.” 

Seoho inhales. “I…” 

“Mm?” 

“I’m scared,” Seoho admits, and Geonhak pouts at him, eyes growing glossy and concerned and affectionate. Youngjo adores the nuanced differences of how Seoho and Geonhak handle each other compared to how they handle him. How Geonhak, usually gruff and stoic, softens his demeanor so that Seoho will let his guard down and finally be honest. “I’ve never wanted to _stick around_ for anyone else the way I do with you two, and if I get used to this, I’ll want more, and that’s...” 

“You can,” Youngjo says. He pushes Seoho’s bangs back, dropping a sloppy kiss right in the middle of Seoho’s forehead. “It’s been almost a year, Seoho. We’ve always wanted you to want more, we’ve just been waiting for you to say so before we give it.” 

“...I’m going to steal even more of your sweaters,” Seoho says, eventually, and that has Youngjo laughing into the top of Seoho’s hair, the tip of his nose flattening the fur of Seoho’s ear. There’s relief and excitement in that laugh, and maybe Seoho feels it because he finally, _finally_ relaxes in their embrace. “That okay?” 

“Of course,” Youngjo says, while Geonhak agrees with considerably less enthusiasm. “In return, we get to steal your heart~” 

Both Seoho and Geonhak groan at that, but Geonhak obviously hates it less because he’s the one to prevent Seoho from getting up by wrapping an arm around Seoho’s waist and keeping him seated. 

“You have to share the burden of Youngjo’s cheesiness with me,” Geonhak says. “That’s the real reason you’re moving in.” 

“Make me sushi then, puppy, as an incentive—” Seoho says, then yelps when Geonhak knocks their foreheads together in retaliation. “Geonhakkie, that _hurts?_ ” 

“It’s supposed to,” Geonhak says, while Youngjo rubs at Seoho’s forehead and coos at him. “Do you want me to go over to your apartment tomorrow and help you start packing?” 

“That would be…” Seoho’s eyelashes flutter a little, as he deliberates, and right when Youngjo thinks he’s going to finish his sentence with something along the lines of _nice,_ Seoho says, “What if you break my stuff with your hulk strength?” 

Geonhak makes an irritated noise, immediately grabbing Seoho by the shoulder and shaking him. Judging from the amused _thumping_ of Geonhak’s tail against the couch, though, he isn’t actually that bothered, but some of Youngjo’s shirt has gotten caught in Geonhak’s fist so Youngjo is shaken along with Seoho, too, all while Seoho is laughing and begging for mercy and pawing at Youngjo to _please save him from the rabid dog trying to eat him_ — 

Youngjo has a feeling things are going to be very, _very_ noisy from now on, but he also thinks that ultimately, it’s what he’s always wanted: to find a real sense of home in a couple of fools who are as head over heels for each other as they are for him. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> pls consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed reading this!


End file.
